Thoughts about my gay catholic friends

Today we went to the funeral mass of a very beautiful man who even in hospice was full of life and faith. Anthony was 78 years old. With G-d's help he remained sober for 31 years. The same amount of time he had been with his same sex partner.
For the majority of the time I've been attending my church, he attended alone. After the cancer, again, when he began getting weaker, his partner John began showing up. Sitting at his side.
I sometimes joke, in my head, that I attend the "gay" mass, and you can't say that I left the Episcopal Church to get away from gays, because if that was so, I failed miserably. I appreciate their presence, because unlike some others who struggle with the Church, they are at least there. I heard a priest once say that you didn't have to agree with 100% of what the Church teaches but you have to be willing to listen to what she does teach.
Homosexuality is not a burden I bear. I have my own struggles and I try to hear what the Church has to tell me regarding my particular sins and troubles.
Anthony loved the Church, he loved Mother Mary. I believe the saints have a job and that is to point us to Christ, Anthony did that too. If you spoke with him, you'd know this.

Redemption

I do not care for football. I don't watch it. I don't pretend to understand it. And really if I were queen of the world I'd eliminate American Football from the face of the earth. Despite my disinterest, I can't seem to escape the story of Ray Rice, a local (Baltimore Ravens) football player who knocked out his wife (then fiancee) in a hotel elevator. The response from the media has been one of shock and outrage. The news cycle doesn't seem to be done with the story, because an indefinite suspension, doesn't appear to be enough for the masses. Hopefully, the cycle will move towards redemption, for both Ray and Janay Rice, but right now I'm not hearing much about redemption.

What I am hearing is punishment and anger. The anger is justified and understandable. Punishment, necessary. Unfortunately, it has resulted in the NFL throwing both Ray and his wife out into the cold. What they need is love, paths towards forgiveness and redemption. What would have been nice, would have been for the NFL to suspend Rice for say a season, AND provide marriage/family counseling and anger management to the couple, to wrap their arms around this family and say, "we abhor what you (Ray) did and what we saw, but we want you to be a better man and a stronger woman, and we want to walk with you to that better place." But no, that's not what the masses want.

Thankfully, our Lord and Father is not the NFL. He offers redemption and forgiveness because he knows we are royal screw-ups deeply in need of both. I have seen G-d redeem my father, who was an angry drunk and abusive husband. When I doubt the Lord, I remember the miracle he worked in my parents' life how he brought back to life the dry bones of a marriage of 30 years after 10 years of divorce. No human could have brought forth that, no human (not his family nor friends) convinced my father to stop drinking and to heal whatever pain he was trying to self-medicate. 

Our Lord has redeemed thieves, murderers, and the like. He redeemed Saul, a man who sought to eliminate early Christians, we know him as Paul, author of several books in the New Testament. He redeemed John Newton, a slave trader in the 18th Century, who we know as the author of "Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me...."

"for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus."
Romans 3:23-24

Events at the Help's Church

I'd been meaning to write about a function at the Help's church. It was fun and interesting, the most interesting part was the belly dancing.
It wasn't a worship event. Apparently as part of an auction one of the church musicians was to host an event of the auction winner's choosing. I guess. I'm not sure all I know, jazz at the big white church with the big flexible space. We went despite having to fly out in a few days, as I don't like cramming too many things in.
The sanctuary is a flexible space. There are no fixed pews. For the event there were tables for sitting and tables for food and drink. There was a live jazz quartet? I don't remember how many musicians and anyway, we were expected to dance. We and several other people danced. When the musicians went on break, as live musicians are want to do, CDs were played, however they weren't exactly jazz. At one point what I believe was middle eastern pop was played. There was a table of South Asians, ranging from hijabed young women to gals in party-hardy western dress who got up and danced. At one point I was standing with the Help and one of the Elders of the church watching the circle of women dancing for their own delight. The Help mentioned to the Elder that I took belly dancing classes and I showed a simple move. The Elder responded by trying the move the best way an older white gentleman can.
At another time, as the Help relayed this story to me, he and a bunch of other fellows from the church were standing around talking about what they were giving up for Lent. A few things. There are several people in the church who left the Church (Holy Roman) and the Help is usually concerned about not acting Catholic, due to my influences. Anyway, in this crowd are the pastor, asst. pastor, and probably an elder. I think the pastor gave up chocolate and someone else gave up chocolate. The asst pastor, spat, "What are you a bunch of closet Catholics?" Then he swore to drink as much alcohol and eat as much chocolate as he could during Lent. If memory serves me right, the asst pastor did attend Catholic U. for some classes.
Anyway a good time was had by all, well except maybe the folks who had to get the church ready for service the next day.

Pity Parties are the worst

No cake.
No ballons.
Definately no cool gifts.
It's a pity party.
Not to get into any details, to protect the privacy of the one who tried to throw the party, but I crashed such a party.
I am honored to be a close enough friend to speak to the person to ridicule their self inflicted downward spiral of pity in order to pull them out and have them laugh about it. I'm also lucky it didn't get worse.
I was not interested in joining in on how horrible, stupid and other negative descripters they used to describe themselves. They'd beat themselves up enough, anymore would be piling on.
However, in the future, I'd like to make a pity party cake, where it all tastes bitter.

How's married life treating ya?

"It's an adjustment"
That's my answer. Someone asked hubbyman the same thing and apparently he said 'exausting'.
It is an adjustment and I am very thankful that my husband is open to change and criticism. However I do stop myself when I think I'm being too much of a shrew. He is trying. Half of it though is relearning old good habits and skills and unlearning habits he picked up while living in a place we call "that house" or the den of inequity.
A husband is way different than a roommate. Roommates weren't this much trouble. Apparently my roommates feared me because I was the landlady. No fear with the husband and so the walls have gotten marred, several things broken, and rough treatment of the fixtures. Also the utilities have gone up! We are working towards being more energy effiecent and less destructive.
We are working on his husbandry, his spiritual leadership of our small family.

"It just happened" prevention insurance

I'm trying to plan a summer vacation with the Help. And I've narrowed it down to two places on two different weekends both in Western Virginia. Not West Virginia but 'Western'. These places I'm trying to rent for the weekend are privately owned cottages and cabins in rural VA, surrounded by farmland or woods, one in the shadow of the mountains. Part of the deal is we need a chaperon.
I know what you're thinking, he and I are two educated adults, why would we need a chaperon. You know that phrase, "it just happened." A couple of friends of ours, also educated adults, one an MD, said 'it just happened' when explaining how they are getting their 1st child. A doctor. You'd think this person would have a great understanding of how human reproduction works. You may also be thinking, you and he are such committed Christians. Yup. Even though some people in some one's church might not think of me as a Christian, yup, we love Jesus and G-d and occasionally the Holy Spirit (kinda forget the Spirit at times). However, I still sin, fall from grace, wander into temptation, do dumb stuff. So thinking logically, and learning from mistakes of others, we need a chaperon.
So I started contacting folks who'd I think would make lovely travel companions. Jon, being one. Problem with Jon, there is a 50% chance he'll flake. Something will come up right before we leave. I'd put money on it. I'd bet it would be a family-friend emergency in the Midwest or wanting to catch up with work. So I emailed my cousin to be an alternate, should he flake. 50%, and that's being generous.

Oppressed Methodists

Who knew.
Well I guess studying early modern British history I was supposed to know, but didn't care. I'm listening to an audiobook that I have the darnest trouble wrestling my mind away from, which I need to do when work or home requires all my mental skills and I have to get off auto-pilot. This audiobook is of Amazing Grace: William Wilberforce and the Heroic Campaign to End Slavery by Eric Metaxas. Apparently Wilberforce's parents were very fearful of Methodist, which seems to have been too enthusiastic zeal for Jesus Christ and an annoying tendency to bring him into the world (seriously I have no idea what Methodists are about), tendencies. Through the biography of Wilberforce Methodism and Methodist tendencies tend to be this boogeyman that others worried about. It seems Methodists weren't too keen on theater.
The author seems to pit milquetoast Anglicanism against enthused Methodism, which this is my first of hearing of this. Now I know of limp Anglicanism, gad nothing new there and I am vaguely aware of Methodists in history. I have heard of the Wesley brothers, and I did take Religion in America in my undergrad days. However, I just figured them to be like any other Protestant group like Quakers or Baptists to have had the initial hardships then blended into the Christian landscape. Well maybe, depending on one's social class and ambitions. If you really wanted to get anywhere you must be CofE Anglican. And as far as I can tell and I am almost done with the book, Wilberforce, that servant of G-d, never left the Church of England, he just was a really enthusiastic happy moral faithful evangelistic Anglican.

The South

I'm from the South.
And please don't tell me that Florida isn't the South. Maybe South Florida, isn't but the rest of Florida is.
Anyway, a pleasant catch-up with an old friend was almost ruined by poo-pooing the South. The old friend had re-located down south and was talking about how different it was. But what began to irritate me in that narrative was the insinuation that the South had some monopoly on racism. It doesn't, it just was manifested differently and it is more blatent and in your face. Northern racism is more subtle, harder to pin down and is slimer than an eel in that it allows the Northern racist to claim innocence. Martin Luther King had the darnest problem with Chicago, and Detroit, L.A., and Boston (think bussing in the 70s) aren't necessarily racial utopias where equality flows. And just because the area where one grew up didn't have any black, or Native American, or brown Latinos around to bother discriminating against, does not make one better than the Southerner who is being judged.
I also felt the need to speak out against the other form of white superiority, where the brown, native or whatever person is given the signal that he or she or his or her people are too incompetent to do anything and must be saved, rescued, placed in permanent dependence by the White man. Energy by the hero white is spent to focus on the goodness of the white and the pitiful plight of the brown, rather than truely enpowering the brown enough to help his/her ownself. Pity rather than commpassion.

Sermons and theologians

I believe Pat Robertson exists just to piss people off. I rarely listen to him, for about a zillion reasons. One being, his interpretation of the scriptures is way different from mine. Another, of the precious time on this planet I have, there are far more interesting and thoughtful ministers, pastors, theologians and religious writers than he, that I would rather spend time listening to and thinking about. The only time I encounter Robertson is when he has said, done, whatever to offend someone on the left. They drag him out as an example of Christianity, as if he were the American Pope of Protestants completely ignoring the diversity of American Christianity.
But anyway, in the past month or so, I've been listening to a new to me theologian and relistening to another theologian I quite enjoy. First is Ray Bakke a specialist on urban Christianity, who I find to be hard core on the idea of sacrifice, not of life (as in not dead) but lifestyle and comfort for the sake of bringing the Gospel to the inner city poor. The second is Os Guinness. I've very excited to find a new or old recording of his that I haven't heard before. He's got such a wonderful British (Irish) accent.
So throughout the day I will listen to a Lutheran sermon, a Catholic homily (maybe, depends on my mood), and an Eastern Orthodox writers' thoughts on Mary. It's mid-week so my listening options are fewer. Rest of the day is finance and only one of those guys mixes in a drop of Christianity. And almost none of them are fire and brimstoners. Sin, is not just something to make you feel bad but it something the separates us from the Father. We're all sinful and fall short of the glory. But good news, Jesus died for all mankind. That's the focus and not so much the sins of the secularists, or eternal damnation, or anything else we're accused obsessing about.

One woman mission

If there is anyone who ministers to whiny bloggers with the cold or flu (I got no clue as to what I have), fyi, I need help.

Got a quick call from Mom this morning. In passing she mention this woman she knows, and whose name is familiar to me, who dropped off a few loaves of bread for her and some hot dog buns for my sister. We talked about this. It was this woman's mission, give bread away. That's it, bread. Hot dog buns, hamburger buns, white bread, bready bread, bread and give it away. If you know enough people willing to take the charity, and you've got enough bread, you've got yourself a mission. What idea. Picking one little thing you can do, and going out into the world and doing it. And it is so small it doesn't require government aid, nor a large organization or even a church structure (though I suspect church ties do play a part).
A radio program I listen to occasionally does a 'giving hour' where callers call in and tell their tales of giving. The easy ones are leaving a huge tip to an IHOP waitress, like $100 tip. The trickier ones are anonymously leaving money to families they know are experiencing hardship, because there are so many things that can go wrong in the execution of the giving and the interpretation of the receiving.
Bread. Well if you know the people and you know they'll take the bread, that sounds like a pretty decent mission.

It was time

I will miss my roommate.
But it was time for him to move on. The Love Shack weekends chased me out of the house, but besides that it was great. I will miss having a 1/2 dressed handsome young man running around the house. Men are interesting creatures.
He and his girlfriend cleaned his stuff out this weekend. And as I thought, it took him more than a day to clear it out. We're still doing final clean up and damage. The damage is minimal, and he's taking care of it.
Tonight, on one pass by to clear out the little stuff, he brought me a dozen yellow roses. I'm a sucker for cut flowers. He is a really sweet boy and I will genuinely miss him and wish him the best.

I still don't want your d*mned pity

I think, and I'm not 100% sure, that I was the subject of someone's pity. I hope I am wrong. Though the more I think of it the madder I get. Luckily, if my theory is correct, it has blown back into the pitier's face. And that gives my little sadistic self, joy.
The reason for the anger, is the problem with pity (as opposed to compassion), in that you just see the problem and not the person. Yes, I'm imperfect in many ways, some that I readily acknowledge, but many of those imperfections are not really worth pity. I just find it insulting that I'm defined by my problems and imperfections. Another problem is I believe I'm everyone's equal. Well, in general. Yes, there are people better than me when it comes to math, science, theology, etc, however when it comes to my worth as a person, I believe I'm your equal, and by the same token you are mine. Pity, to me seems to mess with that notion of equality.
But I'm not innocent. I have pitied. I pity because it is cheaper and faster than compassion.

12/19/2000 10:54:39

Is the time and date I got annoyed and pissed off at my parents. That is the date stamped on their "Final Judgement Dissolving Marriage". Beyond that, I am so hearting the Internet.
I went on-line to see what was up with the family homestead. Mom owes the county less than $200 to pay the property tax on the house and the lot, which are roughly 1/4 the size of my block. The county, though not having the prettiest (actually it looks very, very lame, I expected to see fluttering butterflies & dancing groundhogs lame) website, does have some good stuff linked up. Not only was I able to bring up the property, see how much that worthless piece of dirt is worth ($40K), but got links to liens and my parent's divorce judgement, which... I see that "Husband shall transfer to Wife by quit claim deed all of his right, title and interest in the house and land at XXX NW XX Avenue, BFE, Florida." Daddy has failed to sign over a quit claim deed, mainly because mom has failed to get a loan just for the house. If I get a promotion the first thing I'm doing is buying crap house from the parents and clarifying who owns what and selling it to my sister and the illegal Mexican.

Well the plus side

...is that Ron Paul finished ahead of Rudy Giuliani at 10% in Iowa. The downside is that he finished behind the 3rd place ties of Fred Thompson and John McCain.
Mike Huckabee looks like he's gaining weight, just saying, that or he needs better fitting clothes.
Also I'm quite happy that the Chosen One*, Obama, kicked Clinton butt. I just don't like her. I like her husband more than her, but her husband ain't running.


*Cause Oprah said so.

Angry, bitter and Senile

The mean grandma was in the hospital during Thanksgiving week. Mom came up from Florida, which meant I came down from DC. Mom helped Uncle G and Aunt P decide on a nursing home for grandma. Mom broke the news to grandma about going into a facility but grandma kept forgetting or was swimming deep in the waters of denial (it's hard to tell) that. So she had to be told over and over. Still didn't register.
She's in the home now and man is she pissed.
Seriously.
She called me twice Saturday. She hardly ever calls me. At first I thought it was wrong number, but nope that confused old woman is my granny. Well she complained, as it is her nature, and she decided to find the buttons that annoy me. Annoy, because I'm quite willing to argue back at her. But I do get annoyed when I have to explain two or more times in the same phone call of why I only see my sister and father and mother once a year (I live in DC, they Florida, kinda hard to pop in, particularly when someone refuses to pick you up from the obvious airport). This is a problem with grandma, never been practical, we believe she may have been learning challenged.
Anyway the second phone call was basically a re-run of the first. Let me share. Obviously, she's not happy about being placed in a home, so that was complaint number one. Complaint number two, was her children (mom and my aunt and uncle) weren't settled and failed to consult with her about the nursing home matter. Oh, they'd settle on the home lady, and you're in it. Also they did tell you, you failed to listen, besides, they knew you wouldn't agree to it. Third, she complained about the nursing home staff. It seems the staff would ask her if she needed a bath, she'd say 'no' and she hasn't had a bath since she's been there, because she keeps refusing the baths offered. She's 'washed up', but I don't think that will do the job. At this point she waxes pleasantly about the aide that would come to her apartment and help her. She gave the aide a hard time and she was bitching about the apartment ever since the day she moved in over 20 years ago. Lastly, she makes snide comments about her roommate, as she is in a semi-private room.
I feel so sorry for the woman who has to share a space with grandma. She'll normally talk smack about you, to your face, and that's okay because it's between family. Not acceptable when done to strangers. I want to send flowers to the poor woman because living with grandma, particularly a pissed off one, isn't easy. However, grandma is a very jealous woman, if I send the other woman flowers, it might set off an even nastier attack.
So that's the story with grandma. About what to do for her roommate, I've been told to pray.